


Rocky's

by brimstonegold, virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Sex, two castiels are better than one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brimstonegold/pseuds/brimstonegold, https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: Castiel and Dean have a sexual encounter at Rocky's Bar.  Dream?  Reality?  Or both.





	Rocky's

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/magic_pix/46227123404/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

Standing at one end of the bar, Castiel tugged on the knot of his tie and gave the bartender at the other end a disgruntled look. The man was talking to everyone and having entirely too much fun. Worse yet, he was ignoring a ranking angel.

Time ticked away and the angel was impervious to the fun everyone else was having. His lips tightened. Drumming his fingers on the bar top, he stared at the man who owned the place. 

Dean laughed and smacked the demon he was talking to on the shoulder. “Got me a stuffed shirt down there. Better go see what he wants.” 

Pouring a double shot of good whiskey and adding a touch of holy oil to it, Dean lit it up, then blew out, before setting the glass in front the dark-haired, blue-eyed guy. “On the house, angel. Your first time in Rocky’s, isn’t it? Be warned, the holy oil attunes to angel grace. Now you can get drunk like anyone.” He gave him an easy smile.

Castiel squinted and stayed as stiff as ever. “I am not here to get drunk.”

“Well, you ever been drunk before?” Dean asked, leaning on the bar.

“It isn’t possible.” Castiel waved a dismissive hand. “Not unless I drink everything in the whole bar, which I do not intend to do.” His gaze dropped to Dean’s lips. Frowning, he pulled his gaze away. “Why do you do that? It is most distracting.” It was also hard to ignore, which proved even more irritating.

“Do what?” Dean asked, slightly pursing his lips. “I’m impressed. You haven’t even had a drink and you’re already noticing me.” He nudged the glass. “So, if you’d have to drink a whole bar anyhow, one drink won’t hurt. And I promise, it won’t taste like molecules. It’ll taste like real whiskey. Good whiskey. Now drink, before you offend me for refusing my generous gift.”

“You think to bribe me?” Castiel asked, leaning back and giving the bar owner a look of deep disapproval. “I am a ranking angel and I am not corruptible. Don’t test me.”

“Why would I need to bribe you? And everyone is corruptible. Lucifer should’a taught you that.” Dean spread his hands. “Look, Rocky’s Bar is a place for anyone to meet up and talk. Anyone who is supernatural, anyhow. There’s a no killing-maiming-injuring-fighting spell on that archway you came through. It was put on there by one helluva powerful witch.” He jerked his head toward the redhead in the corner. “King of Hell’s mother. People come in here to drink, talk, play pool, throw darts, and just relax. It’s a supernatural safe space for anyone. For everyone. If you ain’t here to drink, to relax and to get that broomstick outta your ass, you’re in the wrong place.” Reaching out, he grabbed the angel’s tie and tugged him right up against the bar. “Besides, you’re kinda hot. You’d class up this end of the bar. So, sit down, stop being an assbutt, and enjoy the drink.” He leaned in closer, sucking in the nice scent of the angel. “Mmm, maybe I’ll flirt with you if you have a drink. And yeah, that might be a little bribery. Cause I’m awesome when I flirt.” He brushed a quick kiss over the good-looking angel’s lips before finally releasing his tie.

“I am not hot,” Castiel answered, somewhere between irritated, flustered, and baffled. Though he _hadn’t_ been hot, he couldn’t explain the sudden flush of heat rising within him. Or the tingling. There was definitely some tingling in his lips. His body seemed to be on the verge of malfunctioning.

He cleared his throat. “I am beginning to think you are a master of distraction.” Pulling as far away from the bar as he could while still sitting, Castiel wondered whether he had a prayer of focusing on his job. “Also, there is no such word as ‘assbutt.’ Now, about this illicit underground place that you are running--”

“Everything is illicit until someone goes against tradition,” Dean interrupted, laughing. “And just cause it’s against tradition don’t mean it shouldn’t happen. Look around, dude. Demon grunts are talking with angel grunts, and do you know why?”

Castiel’s gaze followed Dean’s, to look at the bar patrons.

“Cause they both have similar problems. Cause they can both make fun of their managers or ranking whoever. And you know what happens when they leave here? Less chance of people dying because they understand each other better. Those vamps over there are convincing the new vamps that being vegetarian is the way to go cause if you don’t kill people, hunters don’t come after you. They even have a support group in the back room every Wednesday night.” Dean stared off into space a moment and gave a small smile and nod. He gave a sigh and refocused on stick-up-his-ass. “When you drink that, we can talk. Until you do, I got other people to get drinks for, Mr. Sexy-angel-guy.” He blew the guy a kiss and went to pour drinks for some new people at the bar.

“Wait!” Castiel blew out a breath when the irritating human disregarded him. He felt the weight of another angel’s gaze and turned, frowning at the merriment he saw in the angel’s eyes. “Something amuses you?”

“‘Sexy angel guy,’” the other angel repeated with a shrug, like the reason for his amusement had to be obvious.

Castiel made a disgruntled sound. “Surely you have duties elsewhere. Brother.”

“I’m on break, Castiel. Get with it or get left behind.” Grinning, the angel left a few dollars on the bar, and walked away.

To Castiel’s consternation, the angel didn’t leave the establishment altogether. Instead, he went to join a group of demons playing a card game of chance. His look of disapproval was lost on the angel, just as surely as it was lost on the bar owner. Dean. Winchester. 

Castiel trained his eyes on Dean for a good ten minutes, then sighed and picked up the glass. Humans could be stubborn about the most ridiculous things. He knocked the whole drink back and regretted it immediately. Instead of a mouthful of bland molecules, sweet and smoky tastes danced too quickly along his tongue and drained into his stomach, leaving a strange but almost pleasant burn. He lifted the empty glass and looked at it, smacking his lips lightly. 

“Now that looks like an angel who just discovered what a good drink I serve here,” Dean said, sliding a new drink in front of the angel. “I’ll give you one more on the house, but after this, you need to be pulling out the wallet of that accountant you’re wearing. So, what’s your name or should I just keep calling you ‘sexy angel guy with to die for blue eyes?’’ And you are hot, by the way. _Really_ damned hot. Even if you think you’re not. And by hot, I mean, damn, you’re one good looking angel.”

“I’d rather you simply call me Castiel,” Castiel answered, his gaze shifting around to determine whether anyone else from heaven might have heard. “I did say I don’t take bribes,” he noted, but closed his hand around the full glass. “Do you sweet tongue -- talk -- Crowley’s people, too?” Surely Dean could not mean half of the things he said. 

“Castiel,” Dean said, trying the name out. “Angel of Thursdays isn’t it? I think I’ll just call you Cas. Easier to say and sounds sexier. Casssss,” he murmured soft and low, like he was talking to a lover. He gave a one-sided smirk and waved at the drink. “Of course you’re welcome to pay for the drink, I just find first time visits from angels--most don’t have a damned clue they gotta pay for stuff. I flirt with a lot of supers. ‘Sweet tonguing,’ mmm, gotta say I save that for the really hot ones.”

Castiel frowned. “They’re all abominations, I suggest you refrain from sweet tonguing any of them.” Lifting the glass to his mouth, this time Castiel drank slowly, savoring the taste of whiskey for the first time.

“Supers. I just call them all supers cause at Rocky’s, the point is that _everyone_ can be welcome here if they check the hate and violence at the door. Love thy enemy and all that. Cause killing them one-by-one wasn’t doing a damn thing in the long run except making sure me and my brother would end up bigger messes than we were and end up dying bloody. So, I decided to get off the tracks before another damned train wreck. It ain’t perfect, but there are still hunters out there to take down the ones who can’t meet us halfway. In here? In here they can see there are ways to get off the radar, be themselves without the cost of innocent blood. Me, I think it’s been a pretty damned good thing so far. A few hiccups now and then, but we got most the wrinkles smoothed out.” Dean said. He’d been pouring a few drinks but let the other bartenders handle it while he was chatting up Castiel. New angels--newbies in general--could cause trouble if they weren’t paid a bit of personal attention he had found.

“I really would rather you didn’t equate us with them.” Cas unintentionally shook out his wings, which though invisible, cast a momentary dark shadow across the length of the bar and the walls. “A former hunter should know better.”

Dean laughed and pulled the towel off his shoulder to wipe down a section of the bar top. “No, you angels are in a class all by yourselves. I’ll give you that. But there are a lot of supers who aren’t evil or abominations. Like the imaginary friends. Or reapers. What would you call them?” he asked curiously. 

“Useful.” He had no idea what Dean wanted him to say, so he kept his answer brief. After taking another sip, he looked steadily at Dean. “You are not what I expected. You don’t look like a hunter. You look even less like a hunter who has worn out his usefulness. I had heard that Dean Winchester is the epitome of humanity, but I find you more perplexing than most humans.”

“The epitome of humanity?” Dean couldn’t help the bark of laughter. Oh, he couldn’t wait to brag to Sam about that. “And why do you find me perplexing? Not a lot of deep thinking here,” he said tapping his temple. “Just am what you see and loving my dream.” He grinned and nodded to the bar around him. 

“I can’t anticipate what you will say next. And the things you say make me wish...” He waved a dismissive hand. “You must be _corrupting_ me. I am not interested in flirting. Or winking. Or that thing you keep doing with your tongue. I’m here on business. And I’ll have another.” He pushed his empty glass towards Dean.

“Oh. That’s cause Rowena whammied me with a protective spell so no one can read my thoughts without touching me.” Dean gave him a smirk as he poured another double for the angel. “Flirting is easy,” he said, “and it’s not corrupting to flirt. Just tilt your head and give a little bit of a mysterious smile.” He was only half-surprised when the angel followed his instructions. “Now lick your lips, making them wet.” Cas did that, too. “Touching is good if you see it’s alright with the other person.” Dean ran a hand along Castiel’s arm and down to his hand. “See. Human touch. Nice, yeah?” He licked his lips again and locked gazes with the hot angel.

“Ah. I’m not sure that’s the word.” Castiel swallowed. “Warm. A little uncomfortable, not in an unpleasant way.” He started to shift but stopped himself. Angels did not squirm. “You can end your instructions,” he said almost breathlessly, lifting his hand slightly under Dean’s. Still, he found it inexplicably difficult to pull his gaze free of the human’s.

Dean wrapped his fingers around Castiel’s hand, brushing his fingertips over Cas’ palm. “So, am I good teacher? You think you know how to flirt with me now?” he asked, leaning in a little closer.

A jolt of heat shot from Castiel’s palm up his arm. His eyes widened. His nostrils flared a little as he drew in a deep breath. His head spun with Dean’s scent. A hint of leather. A hint of liquor. A hint of sin. “You’re an excellent teacher. This place should be called Sodom or Gomorrah.” Given that his eyes were glued on Dean’s mouth, he wasn’t exaggerating.

Castiel cleared his throat and pulled his hand away. “This is unseemly. I was sent to make arrangements to close down this bar.” He licked his lips. “We should talk.” His deep voice somehow dropped an octave. Again, he cleared his throat. “About… about business.”

“Closing down my bar, nope, ain’t happening,” Dean said, feeling a heat in his gut from the way Castiel’s voice went all gravelly. “Business is good. Good for everyone. And I hear the angels talking about how morale in the grunt ranks is higher than its been in a long time. How just coming here for a few hours helps them find themselves or something.” Castiel might have pulled his hand away but he hadn’t moved any further away. So Dean licked his lips and leaned a little closer. “And I gotta say, I kinda like what I’m finding here, across the bar from me.” 

“Fraternization is strictly forbid--” His words were cut off by Dean’s mouth pressing firmly against his own. There was a strange thundering in his ears. It was his heart. The usually steady beat was erratic and messy, and wild. This human was making shambles of his well-ordered world, yet Castiel couldn’t draw away. Instead, he parted his lips, allowing Dean’s insistent tongue entrance. Bad idea. Really bad idea. His thoughts were swept away with every slide of Dean’s practiced tongue. Euphoria. Heat. Paradise. In that moment, there were no angels or devils. All he could concentrate on was humans. One human. Dean Winchester.

Dean felt his heart kind of stutter and stomach do a flip flop. That was unusual. Sure, he kissed people at the bar now and again because he liked the occasional roll in the hay as much as the next person. But his stomach doing somersaults? No, this wasn’t normal. He couldn’t help himself and slid his hand behind Castiel’s head, holding Cas there while running his fingers through that dark hair. He moaned appreciatively as he explored every little niche in the hot angel’s mouth.

The throaty sound reverberated through Castiel, triggering little earthquakes inside him. He pressed his hand into the bar top, trying to control his reactions. If he slipped and caused a cataclysmic event, it would not be good. The smart choice would be to pull away. Instead, Castiel was drawn inexplicably deeper. Lifting a hand, he cupped the side of Dean’s face and experimented, kissing him the way Dean had kissed him. 

When Castiel turned the kiss around on Dean-- and either this wasn’t the angel’s first kiss or he was a damned fast learned-- Dean sort of forgot to breathe and started seeing spots, right along with fireworks. He finally broke off from the kiss, panting. “Okay, you get free drinks all night if I get more kisses like that from you.” He held up a finger, gasped a few more breaths in, then went back for more, because, da-amn, this angel was special. At this point he was lying halfway across the bar and he began to hear some laughs and whoops and he was pretty certain they were directed at himself and Cas. And he was okay with that.

Castiel wanted to protest both the loss of Dean’s lips against his, and their maddeningly tempting, seducing, corrupting return to his mouth. He knew he should stop, but found himself gripping Dean’s shoulders and kissing him again. Hard. The laughter. The annoying chatter. He wished them all away, and suddenly everyone, but Dean disappeared. Castiel easily pulled Dean over the top of the bar. The man had great reflexes, because he somehow shifted his body and ended up sitting on the bar, legs dangling off, with Castiel standing between them as they kissed. 

Dean wondered where all the noise went. He kinda missed hearing the rock music. But the kissing got even hotter and he couldn’t resist wrapping his legs around Cas, now that he was on the same side of the bar as the angel. He slid his free hand down Castiel’s side and tugged at the fabric tucked into the guy’s pants. As soon as he got a corner out, he slipped his hand under, making a distinctly pleased sound as he touched bare skin. His fingers felt like they were wrapped in live wires, electricity practically dancing up his arm. 

The sudden intensified heat had Castiel rearing his head back. “Your hand is in my pants.”

Dean pulled out his hand, pulled the belt open, and slid his hand back down inside. “Yep. Sure is.” He reached deeper and ran his hand over Castiel’s cock. “You like tha--wait. Where is everyone and how come I’m seeing everything in black and white?”

The light pressure on his cock sent a shockwave through Castiel. Barely able to stand, he gripped the edge of the bar. “This is… it is,” Castiel swallowed, “a highly irregular form of negotiation.” He blinked and tried to focus. “And private. A private negotiation.”

Dean glanced around. “Huh. Well, I was gonna suggest we move to the back room, but pocket dimension or or angel privacy or whatever--yeah, this works.” Leaning back in, he started kissing Castiel again but pulled his hand out free, this time to undo the angel’s pants. The sound of Castiel’s zipper sent need spiraling through him. Shoving the pants open impatiently, he pushed the shorts down enough that he could pull Castiel’s cock out. He began sliding his hand along that stiffening cock, brushing his thumb around Cas’ crown, shuddering when he felt the first few drop of cum on his thumb. 

Both of Castiel’s palms hit the bar. Leaning in, towards Dean, he processed all the new sensations dancing along his skin and wreaking havoc with his senses. A soft groan left him. He ought to stop this human. This was clearly a bribe. And yet, he wanted to stay like this. He wanted it with every fiber of his being. “Perhaps I am corruptible,” he mumbled, his hips jerking forward. 

Giving a snort of laughter, Dean began kissing and nipping along Cas’ jaw and worked his way down to his neck. “Mmm, if angels were perfect, God would’a stopped with ‘em, don’t you think? Or maybe they just weren’t imperfect enough and he had to take it one step further. Humans. Pretty damned imperfect. But fun. We can be all sorts of fun.” He reached his other hand down to finger Castiel’s balls, pulling back to watch the angel’s face as he continued to slowly jack him off and play with his jewels.

“Heavenly Father,” Castiel hissed. And already Dean was making him sin. Vowing not to take his Father’s name in vain again, yet unable to talk himself into doing the right thing and stopping this train wreck -- as Dean had called it -- he started to access Jimmy Novak’s memories of sex. As he carded through them, he blurted out, “Shouldn’t this be done in bed? And what is the missionary position?” Right after he’d asked, he came upon memories of porn movies. “Ah, I understand,” he said. Reaching for Dean’s belt, he started to unbuckle it, biting his lip as another wave of heat raced through him.

“Bed, pool table, top of the bar, chair, standing… all choices have advantages,” Dean said with a nod, watching how Castiel caught his lip in his teeth. Leaning in, he whispered in the angel’s ear, “You look sexy, biting your lip like that.” He began switching up the rhythm of his strokes, not wanting the guy to get used to any one feeling for too long. He paused just long enough to lick a few drops of cum off his thumb and then went right back to it. 

“No sexier than when you do that distracting thing with your tongue and lips,” Castiel answered, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. Taking a deep breath, he pulled Dean’s belt out of the loops with a single tug, and let it clatter to the floor. Staring intently into Dean’s eyes, he rode another wave of pleasure before giving a nod. “Pool table.”

The instant Dean released him, Castiel grasped Dean’s hips, lifted him up, and in a few long strides, carried him to the felt covered slate table. As he leaned down, he swept the pool balls out of the way and laid Dean on his back. Dean lifted his hips and Castiel pulled his jeans and shorts down and off. “You’re doing that thing again,” he noted as he started taking his own pants off. 

Dean stared at him hungrily and licked his lips. “Which thing. And do you like it? Should I do more of it?” he asked breathlessly. The angel’s show of strength had been hot as hell as far as he was concerned. And when Cas had yanked his belt off of Dean, it had shot flames through him and made his cock go from getting-there-hard, to I think-I-can-pound-nails hard.

Castiel demonstrated by sliding the tip of his tongue across his lower lip and bringing it back around his upper lip. “Take off your shirt.” He bent down to remove his pants and shoes completely. 

“Mmm, yeah, that is sexy,” Dean said, smirking. Pulling off his flannel, he tossed it aside, then peeled off his t-shirt. Leaning back on his elbows, he watched the guy. “I never realized I had a thing for dark hair and blue eyes until now. Can you show me your wings? I bet angel wings are sexy as hell.”

Castiel’s gaze moved over every inch of Dean with a heightened sense of awareness. He understood now, temptation was a powerful mistress. The shadow of his wings materialized, blotting out the view behind him, lifting and falling, shaking up and down as he moved forward. Putting one knee on the pool table, between Dean’s legs, he leaned over him, lifting his wings again. His eyes laser focused on Dean’s tempting mouth, making him ache and throb with new desires. 

Dean reached over Castiel’s shoulder, stretching his fingers out. “Just shadows. C’mon, show me those wings. I wanna run my fingers through your feathers. Not afraid of me ruffling your plumage, are you,” Dean whispered, his voice husky and filled with yearning. “Bet I can show you a new thing or two when it comes to those wings.”

“So human. Never satisfied. Give an inch, you want a mile,” Castiel answered, just as huskily. Still, he relented. Dark shadows melted away to reveal inky black feathered wings that he allowed to span only past the table they were on.

The breath rushed out of Dean. “I thought they’d be white. They’re gorgeous, though. Black as night, just like my baby.” He ran his fingers lightly over the edge of Castiel’s left wing. They were silky soft but even as he felt their magnificent texture, energy seemed to ripple up his fingers, along his arm, and into his very chest. His heart jumped in speed. “Magnificent,” he breathed, practically entranced by their beauty. 

“I think of them as serviceable, but I am glad you like them.” As Dean’s fingers rifled through his feathers, electric sensations danced across Castiel’s wings and skin. He had to close his eyes for a moment, just reveling in these all new feelings. “If I’d known, perhaps I’d have become corruptible long ago.”

When he opened his eyes, he knew what he wanted above all was to please Dean. He ran his fingers up along his abs, and chest, and the side of his neck to touch his temple. “Let me see what you want,” he said, his fingers warming.

“Yeah?” Dean asked. He wasn’t entirely sure himself. He imagined himself behind Castiel, fucking him while stroking his wings and jacking him off, hearing Cas scream his name when they came. He also liked the idea of the strong angel fucking him, kissing each other senseless while he ran his fingers through those gorgeous wings. Then he couldn’t help but think about giving the angel the best damned head the guy ever had, or getting an angel blow job himself.

Slipping inside Dean’s mind was easy, but Castiel hadn’t been prepared for the powerful images that struck him. Dear G-- His need ratcheted up, causing every piece of furniture and item that was not nailed down to rattle around them. “Your needs conflict,” he said through clenched teeth, trying to keep himself in control. “I cannot be inside you and in front of you at the same time.” The images were emblazoned inside his own mind and would not be ignored. “Unless--”

“There were two of you,” Dean suggested immediately. Twins or even triplets. Yeah that would be awesome, he thought, imagining more than one Castiel.

There was a moment of silence, and then Castiel rolled onto his side. Technically, his _clone_ rolled out of him, so that while he still hovered over Dean, his second-self sat on the pool table next to Dean. Their wings brushed against each other before coming to a rest. 

“Holy crap! I mean, Holy Awesomeness!” Dean yelled, giving a fistpump. “Two hot as hell angels to make love to and making love to me. This is like Heav-- ah, my wildest dream come true. Okay, you, you’re Cas. You,” he looked at the ‘new’ Cas, ‘Uh, what should I call you. ‘C’? Or ‘Tiel’ or ‘Two,’ maybe?”

“Angel will suffice. He wants to take you. So you can take me.” Angel smiled, running his knuckles gently across Dean’s cheek.

“He’s not real,” Castiel quickly said. “Angel will do as he is told, and _not_ give away my thoughts.”

Angel sighed and leaned in to kiss Dean, but was pushed away by Castiel, who swept in to take the kiss. 

“Mmm, possessive and jealous.” Dean smirked. Hell, if he could make a not-really real duplicate of himself for his lover, he’d be all possessive, too. He kissed Castiel intensely while tugging the duplicate up behind him, so he was sandwiched between them. Grinding against the real Castiel, he occasionally wagged his ass for Angel, rubbing back against him. He couldn’t resist reaching down and groping both. This was just sweeter than sweet and more perfect than he could hardly imagine.

If it weren’t for the fact that Angel’s movements and presence pushed Dean closer to him, Castiel might have been more irritated with his double’s presence. But content with the benefits, he blocked the double out of his mind and concentrated on the sweet sensations generated by this human. He kissed him again and again, thrusting his hips and rubbing his groin against Dean’s. He wanted more. Lifting one knee, he rested it over Dean’s thigh, and rocked harder against him. He started to explore Dean’s body. His shoulders, his sides. When he vaguely became aware that Angel was kissing Dean’s neck, he lifted his head to protest. That’s when he saw Dean was almost in a thrall of pleasure. Eyes heavy lidded and barely focused. Soft sounds coming from him. He couldn’t deny the man this pleasure. He wouldn’t. 

His gaze was drawn down to Dean’s nipple and suddenly he was filled with a strong desire to taste it, and to find out what would happen. Lowering his head, he stroked the tight bud with his tongue.

A tiny strangled gasp erupted from Dean when he felt the heat of a wet mouth at his nipple, as a tongue caressed and toyed with it. He couldn’t help arching into it, wanting to feel that mouth close over it and suck on it. His hands shifted and the need to play with Castiel’s feathers grew. He ran his hands up the angel’s surprisingly muscular back until he found where those glorious dark wings sprouted from. He gripped them, then began running his fingers along them, stroking and squeezing, hoping for a reaction from Castiel. The feathers were like a warm satin that sent strange shudders through him. 

Concentrating on the pleasure Dean’s reactions brought him, Castiel never noticed the man’s hands inching towards his wings. At the first touch of fingers gliding through them, an earthquake erupted inside Castiel and would not be confined. The pool table shook with the force of Castiel’s pleasure. He lifted his head and gave a ragged, “Dean Winchester, do not stop.”

Dean couldn’t help grinning. Oh yeah, that was exactly the sort of response he had hoped for. “Like that, do you?” He began to explore Cas’ wings, wanting to know all the erotic places he could touch or rub or squeeze that got a reaction out of Castiel. He imagined screwing Angel, playing with his wings and listening to him beg for it, while Castiel was busy fucking him thoroughly. He gave a small groan as he felt his cock get even harder and couldn’t help thrusting forward and back between the mirror images of the angels.

“Extrem--” Unable to provide a complete answer, Castiel slanted his mouth over Dean’s and rocked against him, harder and harder. His body was on fire. His wings vibrated. The room spun and shook and there was nothing he could do to keep his emotions in check. Through the heat, the fire, he felt the ache between his legs. Need. Lust. Want.

Tearing himself away and breathing hard, he nodded for Dean to roll over towards Angel. His double was already encouraging Dean to do so. 

“Do angels need lube? Cause humans usually do,” Dean said, taking Castiel’s fingers and putting them to his temple so he could show Castiel what he meant. “Or you can just tongue and stretch, or even use some angel magic.” He made sure Castiel understood his thoughts, then he gave Castiel another kiss. “Don’t get too jealous of what I’m doing to your twin. We can always switch it up on the second go round.” He winked and rolled over, staring down at Angel. “Now I don’t know if I wanna watch your face as you come apart, or play with your wings while I fuck you senseless… yeah, first time, definitely the wings. You want that, Angel?” 

“ _His_ wings?” Castiel asked through gritted teeth.

“He said you can switch place,” Angel gently reminded Castiel, before looking up at Dean. “I’d love to have my wings touched.”

Dean glanced over his shoulder at Castiel, reaching back with one hand and stroking his cock. “Or I can screw you first while I make love to your wings. But then your twin will get to fuck me first. I promise, fucking me will be just as amazing. Besides, with a practice run with Angel here, I’ll be twice as good when you’re ready for it. But it’s all your call, Baby. What do you want?” he asked soothingly as he squeezed Cas’ cock.

It was difficult to choose between having his wings stroked and being inside Dean. Biting his lip, Castiel put his hand over Dean’s and squeezed. A throaty groan escaped him, and he knew what he needed was to be encased by Dean. “You may roll over. That is acceptable.” He nodded. 

As all three of them shifted around, the pool table jostled like it was going to fall over. Angel settled down, laying on his stomach and spreading his wings out so they touched the floor. Dean rolled on top of Angel, his knees on either side of Angel’s body.

Castiel then raised himself onto one knee on the table and pressed his aching cock against Dean’s opening. “You will not need lube. You are safe with me,” he promised, curling over Dean and kissing his neck and shoulders. Places Angel had been able to reach with his mouth when Castiel hadn’t.

Angel gave a soft groan. “Take me,” he whispered, pushing back against Dean’s tip.

Now Dean could see the glory of Castiel’s wings. That they reached across the pool table and draped to the floor practically made his mouth dry. He ran his hands slowly up Angel’s back until he reached the ebony wings. He stroked up along them, following their curve. He had a pretty good idea of where they were sensitive based on playing with Castiel’s wings and how hard the table shook. Just as he placed his hands right where he wanted them, he gave a sharp, perfect thrust, burying himself inside Angel while squeezing his wings in the perfect locations. He groaned as he buried his face in those magnificent wings, soaking up the perfection of being inside him. 

The hard shove of Dean’s ass against his tip had Castiel moving with Dean, thrusting his hips so he was deep inside Dean. Encased in his tight heat, Castiel’s world whited-out for a minute. He rolled his hips experimentally, biting his lower lip against the sheer pleasure that struck him. “You make me want things I should not. Make me wonder things, I must not.” He pulled out a little, then thrust his hips hard, groaning with pleasure. 

Castiel’s entry, coupled with being inside Angel and his fingers wrapped inside those luxurious wings, sent electricity, fire, _life_ through every part of Dean’s being. “Cas!” Dean shouted, his voice echoing with pure pleasure. Even with Castiel’s promise, he had expected some pain, some feeling of being split it two, but it wasn’t there. At all.

Every little movement Castiel made with his hips, Dean mirrored in Angel, then countered, deepening the pleasure for the three of them. He ran his hands caressingly over and through the dark-as-night feathers, then kissed and sucked on the skin of Angel’s back, right between the wings. The pants and moans he heard from Angel only heightened his own desires, and he squeezed the muscles inside of him, tightening them around Castiel’s cock.

Just when Castiel had thought it could get no better, Dean started clenching around him, sending Castiel into a new form of ecstasy. Groaning against Dean’s ear, he whispered, “You are just as distracting from the inside as you are on the outside.”

They fell into a steady rhythm. Castiel thrusting, pushing into Dean, and Dean pushing inside Angel. Their grunts and groans filled the room, coming faster and faster. The rattling of the bottles increased. Frissons of blue energy flew from Angel’s wings, everywhere that Dean touched them. 

Heat licked at Castiel. He started to shift his hips, angling his thrusts. It wasn’t enough. He wondered if it would ever be enough. “Dean,” he grit out, touching the man’s temple. The ideas Dean had, they almost overwhelmed Castiel. Quickly selecting the image that would give him exactly what he needed, Castiel pulled out of Dean.

He was deaf to Dean’s and Angel’s protests. Dropping his feet to the floor, he gripped Angel’s hip, and Dean’s knee, dragging the two of them to the edge of the pool table and lifting them up slightly. For an instant, he could see how Dean penetrated Angel. Groaning at the sight, he pushed himself inside Dean and started to fuck him like they’d never stopped. Each thrust was more powerful than the prior one. Each one brought him closer to release. “Ungh, ungh, ungh,” he grunted with the exertion.

The pool table was suddenly softer under Dean’s knees and the raised edge was gone as well. Angel’s legs were off the table; it was like Castiel had Dean bent over the pool table, with Dean bent over Angel. While Dean balanced on top of Angel, Castiel pounded Dean’s ass like a jackhammer. Dean didn’t know how it could possibly be comfortable for Angel, but at this point, he figured they were all too far gone to care. Besides, he’d punched an angel once. They were like stone. So it was a lot more likely his pool table was going to take damage than Angel.

Dean humped faster and harder, working to hit that right angle to hit Angel’s prostate because he wanted to hear Angel’s repeated cries of pleasure. He shifted a little and then again, and _bam_ he was right there, hitting it on every thrust. The way Angel’s wings trembled told him everything.

Faster and faster they moved, Angel’s wings fluttering and Dean getting mind-blowing pleasure from both sides. The heat poured into his gut, throbbing with need, aching with demand and his balls finally spasmed like they never had before. “Caaaaas!” Dean screamed as he exploded into the angel before him.

Castiel snapped his hips forward, thrusting deep inside Dean one more time, raising Dean, Angel and the table up off the ground with his powerful thrust. White hot heat seared his core. He shouted out Dean’s name, every light bulb in the bar exploding and leaving them in the pitch dark. 

Angel moaned and shuddered. Blue energy bolts ran across his wings, providing little flashes of light. 

Castiel leaned in and kissed Dean. “I fear we have wrecked your bar.”

“Bubble universe, not really my bar, right? Besides, that was so fucking worth it,” Dean said, giving a little thrust and delighting in hearing Angel moan and watching the electrical charges ripple over his wings. Of course, when he thrust into Angel, he felt Castiel move in him and he let out with his own obscene moan. “Yeah, worth it,” he murmured.

“Very worth it,” Castiel echoed in a deeper tone, pressing a kiss to Dean’s shoulder. 

“I concur,” Angel said, making a dreamy sound.

“And I think it is time for you to go,” Castiel said, gently pulling out of Dean. The room lit up, and they were standing. He had his arms firmly around Dean’s waist and was looking down into his face. Angel was nowhere to be seen. 

“Did you just change your height? Cause I swear I was taller than you,” Dean said, looking into those blue eyes. “That’s okay. So long as you didn’t make me any shorter.” He ran his hands teasingly over Castiel’s wings. “You know, we could vacate to my bedroom and spend the rest of the night having really hot sex. The bar will survive without me for a night.” Leaning in, he gave Castiel a long, lingering kiss.

“You will make my wings spark like Angel’s.” The question sounded more like a demand. The bar disappeared, and they were in Dean’s bedroom, in the bunker. 

*

Dean opened his eyes. He was sprawled out in his bed and he stretched then rubbed his eyes. He smirked and changed his shorts, using his sheets to wipe down. After pulling on some sweats and a t-shirt, he walked out to the main room. The smell of coffee took him over to the coffee pot sitting on a side table. Sam was already at the computer and Castiel was sitting across from him, flipping leisurely through a thick book.

He stopped in his tracks and stared at Castiel. He headed back to the coffee pot and poured a second cup and after digging through a couple drawers, found the holy oil. He put a little holy oil in the coffee and lit it with his lighter, then blew out the flames. When he walked back to the pair, he set a mug in front of Castiel. “Try this. See if it’s tastes like real coffee or just molecules.” 

Castiel’s eyes widened. He leaned back, as far away from Dean as he possibly could. “Why do you say that?” He licked his lips.

Sam glanced over and saw Castiel looking like a deer paralyzed by headlights. “Dude, it’s just coffee. You already had some earlier.” Then he made a face and looked at Dean. “You got some for _him_?” His gaze dropped to the table where his own cup sat empty and unrefreshed. “Hey, talking to you.”

Dean stared at Castiel and gave a private smirk. “You’re always bitching about it. Since you got your mojo back, you can’t taste anything but molecules. I got an idea from a dream I had. Try it.” He took a long sip of his coffee, his gaze locked with Castiel’s. He ignored his brother for the moment. 

“You had a dream? I had a… a daydream.” Castiel swallowed.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What do angels daydream about?” Sam asked, only to have Castiel disappear right before his eyes. “What the-- Is he getting stranger?”

Dean’s eyes widened. Setting his coffee down on the table he lifted both his hands. “What! No! No, goddammit. Cas, stay out of my head! You know I hate it when you see my dreams! And it was just a dream!”

Seeing Dean shouting at thin air, Sam laughed. “That’ll teach you to have your strange porny anime dreams. That makes _you_ the strange one, not him.” Running his hand over his face, Sam reached out. “I’ll take his coffee, thanks for asking.”

“No! It’s got holy oil in it.” He shoved his coffee over to Sam. “Here. Have mine.” After giving Sam his, he went back and got the last cup and started another pot. Settling himself across from Sam he sipped on his coffee, watching his brother.

Sensing Dean’s stare, Sam looked over. “What?”

“So, I’ve been thinking. Things just keep getting weirder and worse for us, don’t you think? I mean, it’s like one train wreck after another. I think--maybe we ought to consider retiring.”

“Retiring? You? You’re thinking of retiring?” Sam’s brows climbed up his forehead. He leaned back and stared at his brother.

“... At least just think about hunting part time. And maybe try to fix things a different way. Smaller scale.” He took a deep breath. “I wanna try opening a bar for supernaturals to hang at. Demons, werewolves, angels, vampires, anything is welcome. Get Rowena to whammy the entrance with a no-fighting, no-attacking whatever spell.” He stared at his brother, trying to gauge his reaction. “What do you think? Nuts?”

“I think you’ve been watching too many Angel reruns.” At Dean’s silence, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re serious.”

“I’m seriously _thinking_ about it. About three miles from here is the perfect place. Kinda out of the way. Normals aren’t going to stumble across it and we can have Rowena maybe whammy it to help hide it from normals. Though that might make deliveries hard.” He gave a soft chuckle. “I don’t know. What we’re doing--just, maybe it’s time to try a different tact.” He stared down into his coffee. “Yeah, I guess it is nuts, huh?”

“And this something different, it’s what? You playing host to the things we hunt down and kill? I don’t see it, Dean. Except for your little romance with Crowley when you were, you know, marked by Cain, you don’t really get along with supernaturals. Like, at all. And what exactly would be the point of this, other than to make us a target for other hunters?”

 

“We get the supers who have found a way to live with humanity to show it to the ones who don’t see it, don’t realize it. Like Lenore’s vamps had, or Benny had. Like Garth’s wolf pack do. The ones who want to live in peace, they gotta want the ones who don’t, to stop. Show hunters there are those who are cool. Find ways to set up supers who need the occasional fresh human stuff with hospital donations or something. We can make it better and just killing them all one-by-one,” He shook his head, “hell, how many did we kill that we didn’t have to? Or that we could have found a better way for?” He looked up and met Sam’s gaze. “Like Amy, your friend I killed who had the sick kid she was trying to save. I shouldn’t have killed her. I should have listened to you. I should’a listened to her and if we had a place, a network to help, she never would’a had to kill those people and… yeah. I think we can make it better. It won’t be perfect on either side. But might be worth a try. Maybe a year. Give it a go and see. I’m willing to try to make it better. But not unless you think it’s worth a shot. Cause maybe I’m still dreaming, y’know?” 

“That’s your porny dream?!” Sam rolled his eyes. And yet, his brother still seemed serious. “This came out of nowhere. I’ll have to think about it. But I know a lot of people, hunters, are missing The Road House. Some place like that, I’d be all for it. Mixing in supernaturals, it would be a lot of work. But I gotta admit the world is changing. We’ve got people like Jack and Garth and it sure would help if hunters could get educated to see gray areas.”

“And there are still things out there that need hunting. Can’t see a wendigo ever being anything but needing to be killed. Or a leucrotta or shtriga. And we could set up a library for hunters to access. The white, the black, and the gray or something,” Dean suggested, feeling a little more hopeful it wasn’t a terrible idea. “I get it’ll be rocky for a while. It’ll be hard. Hard for them. Hard for us. But maybe it’ll be better in the end. And maybe we won’t end up dying bloody.” He couldn’t help the small smile, remembering how it felt in the dream he’d had.

“Huh.” Sam contemplated Dean’s genuine smile. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a goal. A dream. You know the angels aren’t going to like this.”

“I’ll handle the angels.” He smirked remembering how he’d _handled_ Castiel. He grinned at Sam. “You, you get to handle Rowena and get her help. She owes you for making her all powerful. And she likes you better anyhow.”

Sam made a face, but knew when he was beaten.

*** 

“Castiel, c’mon Cas, get your butt down here.” Dean said. This was the umpteenth time he’d called for Cas after Castiel had disappeared the other morning. Since then he’d already visited and bought the place that was going to become Rocky’s Bar. In fact, that’s where he was standing right now. There was a lot of work to do to get it up to code, get the liquor licenses he needed, inspections and all of that, but they’d made some progress already on the place in just a week. “Dammit Cas, get your feathered ass down here right the hell now!”

Castiel reluctantly appeared. “What is your emergency?” he asked, finding himself in the parking lot of a ramshackle building in the middle of nowhere, and yet close to the bunker. Seeing no weapons in the hunter’s hand, and sensing no one was inside the building, he stated the obvious. “You are not on a hunt.”

“Need Jimmy Novak’s signature.” Dean offered Castiel a thick set of legal papers and pointed to an “X” with James Novak’s name typed below it. “Right there.”

“What is this about?” Castiel asked, taking the papers, and a few steps back from the hunter. It would be a while before he could extinguish that daydream from his mind. 

“Making you part owner of the place,” Dean said, jerking his head toward the building. “So, you’ve got something to give Claire down the road. Inheritance, income, whatever.” He jabbed his finger at the line and held out a pen. “So sign. For Claire, if nothing else.”

“Dean, I have no idea what you are talking about.” Castiel sighed and took the pen. As he looked down on the top paper, the word “Rocky’s” blurred in front of his eyes. He blinked, and yes, there it was, on the form, next to the words “Name of Establishment:” His lips tightened. Without looking at Dean, he signed on the line and somehow managed to clamp down on all of the questions screaming in his mind. “If we are done…” he said, holding the papers and pen out, ready to make his escape. 

Dean stepped closer to Castiel, realizing now just how much he missed the angel’s typical ‘personal space’ issue. “Depends. There’s a work table in there about the height of a pool table, and no one else is around. Oh, and since an angel is now part owner of the bar, _you_ can tell Heaven to stuff it if they don’t like the supernatural bar.”

The sudden flash of heat and embarrassment was too much for Castiel. The papers and pen dropped to the ground when he disappeared. 

It was too late when the implications of what Dean said hit him. Dean wasn’t teasing, or making fun, or trying to embarrass Castiel. He’d distinctly stated that there was a table. It was the same height as a pool table. And there was no one around. That’s what Dean had said. Castiel kicked himself. He should have stayed and accepted. Instead, he was cowering in a cold, dark corner of the world contemplating a missed opportunity. An angel, a Captain, embarrassed to take what was offered. It was ludicrous.

Re-appearing, this time next to the entrance of the building, Castiel took long strides as he headed for Dean. “If that is an invitation, I accept,” he said, reaching him and pulling him into his arms. “You might have to give me some guidance. I haven’t done this with a man before. But I did receive some pointers in a dream.” Bringing his mouth down over Dean’s, he kissed him hard, his mind a whirlwind of desires and possibilities.

Dean had picked up the papers and pen, shaking his head and cursing, hoping he hadn’t screwed up their friendship. He was shocked when Castiel came back and then then he found himself being kissed near senseless. 

Tugging Castiel inside the building, Dean dropped the papers on the floor, then broke off the kiss to drag in a gasp of air. “Just remember I gotta breathe now and then, and we’re good. So, show me those wings, baby, and let’s go revisit that dream, but for real.”

“You know we’re forbidden from showing our wings to hum--mhm…” Silenced by Dean’s mouth, Castiel allowed his wings to materialize, and using the force of his body, walked Dean backwards towards the table, intending to prove that angels could make dreams come true.

 

THE END


End file.
